This is War
by I'll Show You a Sweet Dream
Summary: Could it be possible? Could Roderich possibly be straight? No matter what, Gilbert is set out to change his mind. Anything is possible with these guys... AU high school setting.  DISCONTINUED
1. This is War

**This is War**

**(Keep in mind that this is just a working title- it might change if I think of something clever.)**

**This is my first Hetalia fic. It is an AU fiction, where some of the countries are students in high school and others are teachers. It is mostly PrussiaxAustria, and my crazy imagination. This story was created while I was in the shower. Yeah…**

**Warnings: AU, Prustria, UsUk, GerIta, probably a dozen other pairings, strong language, no smutty stuff yet, and there probably won't be- unless I get really bored and brave- and human names. I may have to up the rating to M after the second chapter or so... Also, I have never read the webcomic, as I have not been able to access it, so if there is anything important that I would need to know from the webcomic, I will probably miss it. Thanky and enjoy!**

* * *

"Gilbert Bielschmidt, you are beyond incompetent."

"I'll bet that means I'm totally awesome and good-looking in your language."

"Gilbert, we both speak the same language."

"No, I speak Awesome, so we must be speaking different languages."

The conversation between the two eleven-year-old boys had been going on like this for some time, and the other kids on the bus were getting sick of it; they had been stuck listening to them bicker since they had filed onto the bus for a field trip, at least twenty minutes ago. The shorter, more eloquent of the two, Roderich Edelstien, had been trying to explain to his friend/ rival/ enemy that he was not Prussian. Ever since the albino had first heard of the country he had been smitten with the idea that he was some sort of lost Prince of Prussia. Or something to that effect.

This annoyed Roderich greatly.

You see, Roderich was much more level-headed, and much more thoughtful than his blonde companion. And a notion as totally absurd as Gilbert being a Prince of anything, of having any kind of dignity, that he would have found it laughable if he wasn't so reluctant to laugh at anything the other did.

"Gil, it's not even possible. Prussia was dissolved before you were conceived- before your parents were conceived, for God's sake. You, your brother, and both of your parents were raised or born here in America, you've never even been to Europe, and your bloodline is totally West."

Gilbert pouted at the brunette, using his finger to slam his friend's glasses into his nose as a retaliation until he came up with something really clever.

"Well by that logic… you're German too!"

Moving his glasses down to a more comfortable spot on his nose, the little Austrian boy glared at his albino companion.

"Gil, I was _born_ in Austria. I denounce your logic, therefore, seeing as it is wrong." Gilbert opened and shut his mouth a few times, having nothing to say about that.

A lengthy pause in their loud conversation gave everyone else an opportunity to go back to their regular programming without any interruptions by the two. It was a regular occurrence for them to be arguing- the two were practically inseparable- but a pause during which you could hear your own thoughts was rare. Of course, once everyone started speaking, Gilbert finally came up with something to say.

"But I want a _German_ boyfriend!" He announced loudly while throwing his arms around the Austrian's shoulders, causing his twin, Ludwig, to turn to look at him with a wince. Roderich tensed up and blushed madly.

"Hands off'em!" Came a shout from the seat behind them. Gilbert froze.

Elizabeta. Best not to incur her wrath… At least she didn't have a weapon here, like her crazy frying pan. Just to be safe, the albino hopped a seat and squeezed in with his brother and Feliciano, a silly little Italian boy who almost never left Ludwig's sight.

"Doitsu, Doitsu! Your brother is really scaaaary! Ve, he's staring at me Doitsuuu!" The tanned boy whined in his high pitched voice.

The blonde petted his friend's hair soothingly, giving a withering glance to his brother (who easily brushed it off, choosing instead to bask in his aura of awesome).

Roderich looked back at Elizabeta half-gratefully, relieved that the albino boy was not going to further embarrass him or do anything stupid. Elizabeta, now bored, took the time to muse to herself; Roderich and Gilbert were actually a very fitting couple. One of them loved to destroy, but the other was creative. Gilbert made messes, Roderich cleaned up. Gilbert got hurt, Roderich tended. It was a wonder they even bothered to live in separate homes, since they spent so much time together.

One would think they'd grow bored. They did not.

Roderich and Gilbert had known each other since Kindergarten, and had been best nemesis ever since. They were always trying to outdo each other, as well as go along in their daily lives as normally as possible. This plan became increasingly difficult to follow as they grew more accustomed to being around each other- Gilbert's antics had become a part of his daily life.

Roderich would grow up to continue to be a person of habit. Yes, the two boys grew to be two teenagers, changing very little in that time except in height. Gilbert overtook Roderich quickly, and simply laughed whenever the brunette protested that he hadn't hit his big growth spurt yet. If anything, Gilbert's ego grew along with his body. Roderich remained a level-headed, procrastinating rich-kid.

The meat of this story takes place when the two friends were 16, in high school. In 10th grade they had fewer classes together, but rode the same bus, so they always had plenty of time to argue over petty things, and spent nearly all of their time together as usual. This was very amusing to the more uncouth guys in the school, particularly the homophobic athlete boys who loved to torture those who looked like they couldn't defend themselves. They mocked the brunette endlessly.

Gilbert, on the other hand, was rather popular with the perverts for his reckless behavior, the jocks for his excellence in sports, and most others for his 'awesome' actions.

Roderich was not very appreciative of this. The brunette, bitter, began to spend any time he had in the music room, or with Ludwig and Feliciano, when the Italian wasn't otherwise preoccupied with pasta or pretty girls. Occasionally he would spend time with Elizabeta, who had grown up to be quite the fangirl. Gilbert was furious when he realized that Roderich was avoiding him. The next time the two were in the same room together, they got into such a fight that both had detention for a month- in separate classrooms, of course.

Over the summer, Roderich spent almost all of his time shut up in his home, practicing his music. Only when his parents got so worried for him that they forced him to leave the house did he see Gilbert again. He seemed to have completely gotten over the argument from earlier in the year, but Roderich tried to ignore him.

"Hey, pansy! Get your skinny ass over here; I haven't seen you in ages."

Roderich continued walking, not turning to face the albino. It was like a dark cloud had settled over his brow. Shoving his glasses up onto his nose and shoving his hands into the pockets of his long coat, he ignored his 'friend' as he caught up.

"C'mon, you know you can't resist my awesome for too long- where are you going, to see my faggot brother, or to hang out with your lesbian girlfriend?"

Roderich's temper snapped. Eyes blazing, the brunette spun around and swiped the back of his hand across the albino's face. He scowled, the satisfying smack ringing in his ears. Gilbert was too stunned to do anything for awhile, allowing Roderich to make a quick getaway.

Gilbert, furious again, didn't even bother to follow after his old friend.

"Who needs that pansy-ass anyway?" He shouted into the mirror, locking his crimson eyes on the ones staring back at him. "Who does he think he is, prancing about all the time; he and his fucking music… Damn him and his bloody beautiful music… Why is he such a… a fucking… _prick_?"

He was fighting back tears at this point- Roderich was _his_. How _dare_ he? How dare he ignore him and go so far as to _slap him across the face_? Roderich should love him like everyone else. It was only fair.

"Why is he so fucking pretty? That's what's causing all the problems." He grumbled to himself, sliding down the tiled wall. Of course, he felt himself completely blameless in the situation. After all, he was only doing what he always had done.

Then a thought occurred to the silver-haired one. What if Roderich was actually straight? Pondering it, he had to fight his ego's urge to dismiss the notion outright- anyone's sexual identity could be altered by Gilbert's presence, after all, so in a perfect world Roderich should have been swooning into his arms instead of slapping him.

Maybe he should ask the Austrian- "No. Most definitely not." After all, that was a stupid idea. Roderich might slap him again.

Then the albino recalled his science teacher. Grinning, he sprinted to his artistically messy room and dug out the bent and slightly burnt yearbook- yeah, he didn't know either, and wasn't sure he wanted to think about that- and flipped through the pages until he found the one with the phone number…

"Yo, are you the British guy?" He asked the first person who picked up, interrupting whatever spiel they were about to deliver.

"That's not my name, you bloody punk! Who is this?" An angry British voice sounded from the other side. Gilbert held the phone away from his ear, with a grin that would rival the Cheshire Cat's.

"Yo, it's Gilbert Bielschmidt, from your science class. I wanted to ask you a favor…"

* * *

Roderich was very tired and very annoyed when he returned from the mall- he had gotten lost and called a ride from Feliciano's brother, and the two Vargas brother's and Ludwig had dragged him to the outlet with them. Mostly Feli, who might have done something embarrassing if Roderich refused.

So, trying to distract himself from the incident earlier that afternoon, he had tried to people-shop- watching the people in the mall rather than looking to buy something- but had failed miserably when everyone and everything there reminded him of the albino.

"I'll… I'll be in my room," he informed the maid, since his parents didn't appear to be home. She nodded dutifully.

Locking himself in the piano room- also known as _his_ room, as he spent more time there than anywhere else- he graced his fingers over the ivory keys, letting music pour out. But it failed to soothe him as it used to. Cursing loudly in his native language, he slammed his fingers down on the keys, wincing at the horrendous noise. He caressed the piano in apology for his abuse, and began to pace.

"How could I have lost control like that?" He grumbled, running a hand through his hair, subconsciously trying to smooth down his wild curl.

Well, what more did he expect of himself? It was Gilbert he had been dealing with, after all. The guy practically expected everyone to bend over and kiss his ass just for existing. Scowling, he fought the urge to abuse his piano again. It wasn't worth it to get so riled up.

He was stupid to believe that Gilbert Bielschmidt could ever change- doing so had only gotten him hurt so far. Gilbert had the gall to ignore _him_; his best friend, his so-called 'boyfriend' for the past eleven years? Then Roderich would ignore right back at him, something few would attempt. Gilbert knew how to make life hell. But so did Roderich.

"Hello, can I speak to Elizabeta?" He asked politely over the phone.

"Roddy! You haven't called in forever! What's up?" Elizabeta shouted into the phone, as if not fully grasping that even though Roderich was far away from her, the phone was right next to his ear.

"Elizabeta, would you like to come… hang out with Ludwig and me tomorrow?" Roderich wasn't very comfortable with 'slang' like 'hang out.' Yes, he's kind of socially challenged.

"Sure!" The brunette squealed. "I'll pick you up; I get the car two days out of the week, tomorrow can be my day."

Roderich smirked dangerously. "_Danke_. I'll see you tomorrow."

Operation _Jealous Prussian_ was in effect.

"Ludwig, it's Roderich. I wanted to ask you a favor…"

* * *

Gilbert slammed the door of his room with a scream, slamming his fists and feet into the walls until it didn't hurt anymore.

"_That_ _fucking bastard_!" the albino screamed, choking back the tears threatening to spring from his red eyes.

Roderich had planned this- a huge double-whammy in just two days. This was war. Gilbert Bielschmidt would show no mercy.

Just a few minutes earlier the brunette arrived at his house and ushered Ludwig outside. The self-proclaimed Prussian had been overcome with curiosity, and followed them outside. They were sitting there, Roderich with a satisfied smirk, and Gilbert's brother with a steely look in his eye, staring off to the side. The blonde's lips were pursed, his gloved hands resting on his olive pants- as usual, Ludwig looked displeased.

Then Hungary pulled up in a blue truck, and gave Roderich a suffocating hug when she hopped out. The brunette moved his violet eyes up to the window where Gilbert stood, his smirk increasing. It only lasted a second, but it sent shivers up Gilbert's spine. The Austrian knew he was up there.

And that made the kiss so much worse.

Roderich turned and planted a swift, chaste kiss on the dress-wearing tomboy's lips. She blushed and laughed and dragged him into the truck, almost forgetting about Ludwig. Gilbert stared, seething, when caramel eyes met his. And winked.

They drove off. The albino smacked the window. He was really pissed off when it didn't break.

"That fucking bastard… He deserves what's coming to him." Gilbert picked up the phone, eyes blazing and dry.

"Hey, British guy, time to rethink our strategy. I'm coming over tomorrow."

**How you like? If you do or don't just hit that button and give some feedback. Reviews are author food- don't let me starve, pretty please. Until next time, my kittens!**

**Tata!**


	2. Digging Themselves Some Deeper Holes

**This is War**

**Chapter 2: In ****Which Both Parties Involved Dig Themselves into Deeper Holes**

**This is just a filler chapter to build up the tension between our two main characters, and to introduce Arthur's sex life (which actually counts as a sub-plot, because it has an effect on the magic thingy…) and Alfred. Which is basically the same as Arthur's sex life, since you're reading **_**my**_** fanfic. It's my favorite pairing, as you can tell by what goes on in this chapter.**

**Also, because I have problems, Arthur is vaguely based on **_**my**_** science teacher, because almost everyone in my class is convinced that Mr. Z is gay. Even though he is married to a woman- so he says- everyone still says he's gay. So I had some inspiration there…**

**Rating has been changed to M due to strong language and sexual themes. I know, right?**

**And just by the way, I refuse to make a disclaimer, because then I would be sad, and you all know that any girl on fanfiction doesn't own her fandom. It's pretty simple if you apply logic.**

* * *

"Yo, British guy! Let's get cracking, shall we?"

Gilbert shoved into the classroom with a devious look on his face. It was replaced with one of genuine surprise when he found his biology teacher struggling to escape from being pinned to the wall by a taller blonde who seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly. They both looked over at Gilbert with varying levels of surprise and horror. Then, the 11th grade U.S History teacher broke into a huge grin, sauntering over to the silver-haired student while pushing his glasses up onto his nose- rather sexily, I might add.

"Well, well, well Arthur! Who's the sexy little tidbit you've invited to join us?" His eyes were rolling up and down Gilbert's body, grabbing one still-outstretched hand and bringing it up towards his face.

Gilbert was still surprised, as well as amused. Arthur Kirkland was not.

"Student, Jones. No grabby hands, you wanker." Arthur stated, turning around abruptly when the focus switched to the Brit.

The other two wondered why he was turned, and then grinned, obviously thinking the same thing- Alfred had already taken the time to drop Gilbert's hand and blush in embarrassment, and was scooting towards the other blonde. Arthur was practically radiating heat and whispering to himself, his whole body tense. Alfred Jones threw his arms around him and grinned against his neck.

"What's the kid doing here Arty? I thought we had a date today."

"We had no such thing you bloody bastard!" Arthur practically squealed, his voice strained. Gilbert watched, fascinated. It was like what he and Roderich _ought_ to be doing, but weren't.

However, they had important matters to attend to.

"Yo, British guy, you can flirt with your boyfriend when I'm gone, but we have to get to the plan, okay?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow at the albino, unlatching his arms. Arthur let out a breath of relief.

"Yes, exactly, important matters and all that." Arthur said, doing up his tie, which the American had undone while hanging over his shoulder.

The American looked disappointed when the biology teacher motioned at the door. Gilbert threw his arm around the man's shoulders, leering imploringly at the Brit, with a 'can we keep him' expression. You know, the one that a little kid might give their parents upon finding an adorable and amusing stray dog. Which, essentially, is what Alfred was to Gilbert in that moment.

"Come on, he can stay and help, can't he? He's apparently got a mind in the gutter, and that could help. We still need to brainstorm."

Reluctantly, Arthur sighed and consented, rubbing his temples wearily.

"Alright, alright… So, I'm going to point out from the start that what you had in mind is impossible. You can't put a spell on someone to directly alter someone's sexual identity or make them fall in love without totally fucking up your own mind. I mean, I once met a guy who tried that, and he was attracted strictly to female chimpanzees. I'm not risking my… self to…"

Mr. Kirkland had turned around by this point, so Gilbert hadn't heard most of what he said. His eyes were trained upwards, wide as saucers. Arthur eventually noticed.

"I… I forgot how big they are," Gilbert breathed, fascinated. He reached out a hand to touch the Brit's eyebrows.

Red with fury, he smacked the inquiring hand away.

"You know what, I might as well not help you at all, you ungrateful twit!" The Brit snapped, beginning to stalk away.

"No! Please, I'm so sorry; I won't ever mention it again! I need your help Mr. Kirkland! I'll do whatever you want, and I swear I won't stare at your eyebrows!" Gilbert pleaded, really unhappy with having to beg.

Arthur stopped but didn't turn around. His head was cocked to the side like he was still considering it. This was his 'I'm ready to be flattered' pose. He assumed it whenever Alfred said or did something particularly stupid and he wanted the other to make it up to him by doing some thoroughly mortifying begging.

However, Gilbert could not read Arthur's body language, and assumed everything was okay.

"Well, if we can't make Roddy fall for me- which should have been easy to do without magic- then we have to do it indirectly." The albino broke into a huge grin. "And I have a perfect plan."

* * *

Roderich slammed his fingers down on the keys again, after completely mucking up yet again. He ripped his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. After the day before, he had been so sick with guilt that he hadn't left 'his' room since returning. How could he do something so… so… so _Gilbert_? Because he thought that was the only way to hurt him- to feed him some of his own medicine.

Why was he thinking about the albino so much? It wasn't as if the arrogant bastard would be returning the favor. No, he was much too caught up in himself, in being 'awesome.' Roderich scowled, beginning to pace up and down the room.

"Roderich," the maid called from the door, causing the brunette to jerk his head up.

"Yes, what is it?" He snapped, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Sir, you have visitors. Mister Bielschmidt-" Roderich sucked in a deep breath, only to have his hopes shot down, "and Mister Vargas are here to see you."

The brunette sighed, legs collapsing so that he was planted firmly on his piano bench.

"Tell them I'm not seeing anyone today. Tell them I'm sick."

"Ve, he doesn't sound very sick _Doitsu_." Feliciano said loudly from the other side of the door. Roderich cringed and dropped his head into his hands resignedly.

"Come in then, Ludwig."

The blonde entered the room with Feliciano trailing behind him as usual. He gave Roderich a piercing look, crossing his arms over his green tank top. Roderich returned the gaze with a helpless expression, otherwise maintaining a blank face.

"I don't appreciate what you did to Gilbert yesterday. He may be an arrogant swine, but he's my brother, and I can't let you do that to him. Gilbert still firmly believes that you are his friend, and doing that might have ended that. Have a good summer, asshole."

The angry German stalked out with Feli shooting apologetic glances at the Austrian boy. Once they had shut the door behind them, Roderich slammed his fist down on the keys. Nothing was going as it should.

* * *

"…So, whaddaya think?" Gilbert asked with a smirk, leaning back against the wall smugly.

Arthur pondered for a moment. "Well, it's a stupid plan, and it's really improbable. But it just might work. Those sorts of things tend to- the gods love million-to-one chances."

The bespectacled American could no longer hold back his giggles. In fact, he'd been holding it in for so long that when he actually did laugh, it was loud and obnoxious enough to really piss Arthur off- mostly because he knew what Alfred found so amusing. If it were an anime, he would have had the cute little angry sign on his temple.

"G-Gilbert," Alfred wheezed around his laughter. "Am I to understand that you actually want Arthur to perform magic on your little boyfriend?"

The silver-haired one nodded confidently. Another bout of raucous laughter.

"His success rate is, like 2 percent! I mean, Eyebrows over here probably doesn't even know what he's doing half the time, and you're going to trust him with the body of your (unrequited) love?"

The room was still for a few moments- long enough for Mr. Jones to realize he had just been a stupid ass and said something off-limits. Gilbert cringed when the smack came. It sounded like it hurt.

"…Why do you always hit me?" Alfred whined, looking suddenly miserable.

"Because you deserve it," Arthur answered stonily.

"Oh, I do deserve it, don't I?" Alfred whispered breathily, suddenly closer than he had been.

Once again, the albino watched in utter fascination. If he couldn't have Roderich, he decided- which he would, goddammit!- he would totally go after Jones. That is, if he wasn't taken, which he currently appeared to be. From what he had seen so far, the man was… very good at getting what he wanted. Then Gilbert had another epiphany.

"I'll be right back." He shouted as he dashed out the door. The couple hardly heard him, and they didn't acknowledge him if they had.

Gilbert ran down the road, not stopping until he reached Roderich's home. He had to wait a couple seconds to go up the drive, being very out of breath. A while back he had brushed by Ludwig and Feli, who had both looked rather worried as the determined-looking boy rushed towards his rival's home. Pounding on the door, he waited until the maid came, and ordered her to get Roderich for him.

Once the brunette was told that Gilbert was at the door, he readied himself and went to the door, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. His stomach was in turmoil with all the butterflies making a home inside it.

"Roderich… Edelstien…" Gilbert said the name as coolly as he could, rolling it off his tongue when he spoke. The brunette bit back the tremble that was trying to run down his spine, and copied the albino's stance and expression.

"You know, that was really assholish of you to do, pansy. Your little stunt yesterday. Ludwig must have been so disappointed in you- he was sure you were all over him until you kissed the lesbian. Now he thinks you're a girl, and he sure as hell is keeping his hands off you if you are. I mean, I had no idea you could be so like me."

Roderich's violet eyes boiled, and he lashed out with the back of his hand before he could even think it through. The bastard had struck a nerve. And it _was_ Gilbert- how else was he supposed to behave?

The red-eyed one adopted a look of mock-hurt. "Why do you always hit, Roddy?"

"… Because you deserve it," the brunette decided bitterly.

Gilbert leaned closer, adorning his lips with a dark smirk. Roderich's eyes continued to boil.

"You know what… I think you're right. I do deserve it."

"I'm glad you agree."

Gilbert was suddenly faced with the door as it was slammed in his face. He cursed loudly and kicked over a potted plant. This was_ WAR_! That bastard had slammed the door in his face just as he'd been about to pounce him and ravish that adorable, angry little body…

"Fuck on a stick!" Gilbert cursed loudly, saying the first thing that came to mind. He ran back to the school.

"Are you dressed?" He asked the inhabitants of the classroom with venom dripping from every syllable of his words.

"O-of course we are you pervert!" Arthur yelled from inside, accompanied by the hurried scraping of desk legs on the linoleum, followed by the hushed sound of a tie being redone.

Throwing the door open, Gilbert was ushered in by a flushed and flustered Brit. Alfred clapped the German boy on the shoulder.

"Didn't work, did it?" He asked bluntly.

Gilbert gave a miniscule shake of his head to affirm the negative.

"It's back to the old plan. British dude, when do you think you'll be ready to work some magic? Because that Austrian bastard totally deserves this."

* * *

Roderich slid down the door, legs trembling and eyes closed. He was on the verge of tears by this point, he felt. Ludwig was severely pissed off, Feli would never want to be around him without the German's presence, Gilbert hated him too, apparently, and Elizabeta was a girl. There was nobody left.

"Damn them," he sighed, banging his head against the wood. "And damn me too."

After he was sure Gilbert had left the front porch, he went out and righted the flower pot. His hands just needed something to do.

"School starts in four days, Master Roderich," the maid reminded him after chastising him for getting his pants and hands covered with soil after he had scooped it all back into the pot without thinking.

"Wonderful," he groaned, having lost track of the days. After all, summer was long and boring with intervals of music and stress.

The maid patted the brunette gently on the shoulder, smiling at him in her motherly way. He smiled back up at her, with pain hidden behind his glasses.

"I'll be finished with dinner in a few hours, dear. Your parents might be home by next week as well, so that's something to look forward to, at least."

Roderich nodded, although he didn't really care where his distant, rich parents were, or what they did in the meantime. Alexandra let him go up into his room, retying her hair back and making a pot of tea for her young master. If only he wasn't so sad all the time…

The teenager slipped into the shower, letting the freezing water pour over his pale figure. It was soothing, if cold, and it cleared his head as well as cleaned him. He might as well not waste the hot water when he didn't need it. And when he began to think of Gilbert, he was glad he had made the water so cold.

**-sigh- Poor Roddy, totally clueless. I can't say poor Gilbert, because he's the one scheming to do evil (and vaguely sexy) things to Roderich. If it seems like I'm dumping a lot of crap on Mister Edelstien just to be cruel or create a reason for him to break down, I'm not. This is just how the story played out in the shower. My shower, that is. Where I do some of my best/ worst thinking.**

**Again, food for authors comes in the form of feedback. That's why they call it 'feedback.'**

**Don't expect updates this fast to come often, this chapter is buildup for the next scene.**

**I'm supremely happy with all of the alerts that I got, as well as excited about the four reviews on chapter 1. (Yes, having four reviews does excite me. Every review excites me.) And thanks to Indi-Scarga for correcting my hair-color issue in chapter 1. Until next time, my kittens!**

**Update 2/25/10: It's official: I'm color retarded. Feel free to correct any more stupid mistakes I make with the color of people's hair, eyes, clothing, skin, etc. I, as a rule, don't particularly care about color, so that might be one of the reasons I'm so damn bad at it.**

**Tata!**


	3. In Which the Plot is Introduced

**This is War**

**Chapter 3: In Which the Plot is Officially Introduced**

**Sorry about the delay, I don't even have a good excuse- I'm not at college, nor am I bogged down with projects, or anything like that. But this past week has been totally awful for writing- writers' block after writers' block, and I was so worried about what I was going to do in this chapter. (I'm super insecure about the quality of my fanfiction.)**

**We are finally getting into the lovely, lovely fun part of the story- I've been looking forward to writing this bit since I got the idea. This is where the magical plots come to fruition. And please remember that, as this is an AU fic, I have had to alter some of the characters a bit- this has also been done because it helps the story. So sue me. (Also, Roderich is way out of character for this chapter; he gets more like himself as the story progresses.)**

**UPDATE: I have decided that two weeks is too long, and reduced Roderich's sentence to one week. And I made some minor alterations. That is all.**

**Warnings: Slight OOC, lots of course language and innuendo throughout.**

**Anyway, I guess I might as well give y'all what you came for—**

* * *

The first week of school actually managed to not be a nightmare. Relatively speaking.

When Roderich arrived at school on the first day, he was able to evade everyone. Literally everyone. Elizabeta, Feliciano, Ludwig, Gilbert- who was particularly hard to get away from, as the albino seemed to pop up whenever the brunette turned around, as though he were stalking him. He had learned from his previous years how to inconspicuously duck into a classroom whenever the football team drew near, so he had no trouble there.

During lunch he would take his food, which he brought from home, out into the courtyard and eat alone.

His teachers were the cause of the near-nightmare status. Mr. Kirkland practically interrogated him whenever he came into the room, and the U.S History teacher was always patting his head and apparently trying to yank out hair when they passed in the halls. And P.E sucked, more so than usual because the new teacher, Coach Braginski, really seemed to have a thing against… well, against everyone. Most of his other teachers were slightly more normal. His World History teacher was odd, always talking about true learning and 'drinking the Kool-Aid' and ranting on public education, but a good teacher despite that.

And since the high school did not offer German as one of their languages, he was forced to take French, as a language course was required. His French teacher was… terrible…

The Frenchman, Monsieur Bonnefoy, was a pervert with a big ego and an accent so thick that one would need a chainsaw to cut through it. Roderich believed that Bonnefoy might have been made of pure evil. That the entire French culture was probably made of pure evil, he would go so far as to say. He would say that Gilbert was Prussian before he would accept that any good could come of that bastard, or anything to do with him.

Hardly a minute went by when Francis wasn't trying to get into someone's pants, be it other teachers, students, or faculty members. Roderich was one of his favorite targets. And always with the French! It was constantly "_Bonjour petit chaton_" this, and "_Je sais astuces, mon chéri_" that, and "_Vous __ê__tes si mignon, ma mie!"_ He always seemed to take total advantage of the fact that very few people actually knew what he was saying, including Roderich. Still, they could guess.

Other than his issues with the teachers, Roderich had an uneventful, calm first few weeks. He avoided most conflicts. He stayed away from trouble and did his homework and studied. He came and went punctually.

Now, it was mentioned above, if you would care to note, that the first week, and also the second, were approaching nightmarish only relative to the following weeks. It was then that the plan went into action.

"Biellschmidt, have you gotten everything?"

"I dunno, where's the list?"

"Okay, we got his hair, Artie's hair, and what appears to be a bunch of thingies with unpronounceable names… What else do we need?"

"…"

"What, what is it? Why are you giving me that look?"

"We forgot the _really_ important part…"

"… Oh shit, what is it? It's something I'm not going to like, I know-"

"Menstrual blood."

"_What! What the __**fuck**__!_ I'm not doing that, no _fucking_ way, man! That's just _nasty!_ I feel weird all over just _thinking_ about it!"

"Gilbert, if there were another way, I'd have you do that, but we need it. Also, I've been preparing for almost three weeks- I've starved myself of sex, alcohol, and generally all things that I enjoy- don't look at me like that, it's part of the ritual or some shit like that. And if you don't do this, not only will I flunk you out of every class and make you repeat the school year and take summer classes, but I won't even go through with this. Get the damn blood."

One very awkward situation with a ladies' restroom later, they had everything ready. Arthur then kicked Alfred and Gilbert out of the classroom (for some reason they had continued to meet and conduct meetings there- probably because Alfred was afraid of the ghosts in Arthur's house, and Alfred's home was obscenely messy).

Picking at the frayed hem of his shirt, the albino paced up and down the hall. It took about four minutes for him to get impatient.

"How long is this going to take?" He half-shouted at Alfred.

Draping a bomber jacket-covered arm over the student's shoulder, the Americaphile led him out the door. "Probably about a day, but I wouldn't worry about it-"

"Where are we going?"

Alfred blinked. "As far away from the blast zone as we can possibly get. I was actually going downtown to watch some ladies dance around a pole half-naked, because Arthur says that if we think about him while he's trying to do magic, he'll feel pressured by our thoughts. Do you wanna-?"

Gilbert had clapped his hand over his teacher's mouth and was staring up at him in awe.

"Adopt me," he commanded breathlessly. Alfred laughed, ruffling his hand through the other's silver locks.

"Damn, I didn't know you felt that way about me. By the time Arthur gets the spine to ask me to marry him, and by the time I will actually be _willing_ to marry him, I think you'll be too old to get adopted. But since you're cute, I could always just do you during a rough patch-"

"Too far," Gilbert warned sternly, flashing his red eyes. "I can tolerate a lot, but that's over the line."

Shrugging his apology, the blonde continued walking, the albino by his side- both ready to wreak some havoc.

* * *

Roderich blinked open his eyes to the faint sunlight streaming in through the window. Rolling over, he was surprised to find something that was slightly… in the way. Furrowing his brows, he groggily felt the obstruction. He woke up instantly and ran his hands over it again to make sure it was real. Then he moved his hands down his whole body, and sure enough he did not find what he was looking for.

Panicked, he stumbled out of his bed and threw open the door of the closet to reveal the mirror inside. He was floored. In a bad way.

His hair had, in one night, grown down below his shoulders. In fact, they stopped right above his new ample breasts, which poked out from under the t-shirt he slept in. And his crotch was no longer, shall we say, _occupied_ by a certain male piece. He was slender and a bit curvy, shorter, and had a very much effeminate face.

Yeah. Roderich had been turned into a girl. What did you think would happen to him? (Let's watch Roderich pitch a tantrum over this while I patch up the fourth wall.) There was only one person who could have done this to him, and he was about to tell him off like hell. Actually, he needed to put on a bra first… but then he went out- still in his sleepware, mind you- to bitch out an albino.

"So, explain how this whole thing is gonna work again?" Alfred asked over the phone.

"It's simple- Roderich is straight, so by turning him into a girl, I can woo him then, and he won't be able to resist me! It's a perfect plan! Once he's back to normal, he'll still love me, and the world will have been set right." Gilbert laughed into the phone like a bit of a loony.

Alfred nodded appreciatively, though Gilbert couldn't see him. It was fairly well thought out for someone so near desperation as the silverette seemed. Gilbert jumped when he heard a door slam open somewhere else in the house, and some very loud arguing. Who would be coming into the house this early to shout at someone?

The door to Gilbert's room slammed into the wall behind it, revealing a very angry girl, closely followed by a startled Ludwig.

"You _fucking _asshole!" The she-Roderich shouted.

Gilbert was taken aback, because Roderich almost never swore. He would have assumed it was another person he had messed with before, except for the fact that she was wearing Roderich's sleepware and glasses. And the female and male versions didn't have much difference when you looked just at the face…

"Hey! Are you listening to me, you pig-faced silver bastard?" She shouted, trying to attack Gilbert, but being held back by his slightly stunned brother. Gilbert was unable to hold back a grin. That was a mistake.

The she-Roderich wrenched out of Ludwig's grasp and basically smacked the shit out of Gilbert. She clawed, she punched, she slapped. She was eventually dragged away to reveal her victim, arms shielding his face and covered with red lines from her nails- which had also grown during her transformation.

"… Gil?" Alfred's voice called from the phone. "You still there? Was that him? Or, I mean, her?"

She-Roderich hit 'end call.' She-Roderich was definitely more emotional than the normal one…

"What in the name of hellfire have you done?" she half-screeched.

Gilbert, taking his hands off his ears, decided not to tell her the whole thing- it would totally ruin the fun if he did.

"I have recently acquired a friend who knows a little magic, and we aspired to alter your gender. Don't worry; it wears off in about a week."

The She-Roderich bit her tongue, feeling the flood of emotion, more powerful than anything she had ever felt as a guy. How did girls live like this? The tears were coming, no matter how hard she bit them back.

"Y-you… you complete… b-bastard," she sobbed, sinking to her knees in defeat.

The two boys adopted the time-honored 'oh crap, a crying girl' expression and stood there helplessly for a bit.

"Luddy… Uh… Be a gentleman or something and… pick Roderich up…" Gilbert muttered.

Lifting an eyebrow, the blonde helped Roderich to her feet, and she threw her arms around him and wept into his shoulder. Gilbert didn't like that. Neither did Ludwig, really… He patted her awkwardly on the back, looking almost pained.

"I-I-I don't even know why I'm c-crying," the she-Roderich wept.

"Uh… Let it out… It's alright…" Ludwig really didn't know what to do, or what was even going on. "… So, what happened?"

"This-this bastard turned me into a girl!" She whined. "It's me, Roderich. Only with breasts and long hair, see?"

The albino tried to restrain his laughter, which can't be good for your health, because he went from very pale to very red. This might just be the greatest day of his life. Roderich turned around to glare, flames leaping from her eyes.

"Don't laugh! How am I going to go to school like this? I mean, Bonnefoy will molest me, I'll have to change in the girl's locker room, I'll be totally emotional and completely mad…"

Gilbert had gotten up and was now shoving the other two out of his room. "We'll work it out, pansy. See ya tomorrow!" The door slammed in their faces and was locked from the inside.

The she-Roderich sank to her knees again, heaving a shaky sigh.

"My life is over," she groaned, letting Ludwig haul her back to her feet and help her down the stairs.

* * *

"Well, that's certainly an… unusual predicament," Ludwig muttered over his cup of coffee.

Roderich nodded, taking another big swallow of her tea. At least being a girl hadn't changed her preferences or anything. That would be just annoying.

"I can't even understand why he would do it, and that's the thing."

Ludwig set his cup down and started chuckling, shutting his blue eyes and turning his face away. Roderich had never noticed how pretty his eyes were before… Shaking herself out of it, Roderich fixed the German boy with a hard purple stare.

"What's so funny?" She asked tersely.

"I find it amusing that you, of all people, actually expect a single thing Gilbert does to be done for a reason. You probably know him better than I do, in some areas."

'_And there are some areas I'd like to get to know him better in_,' giggled her libido. Cleverly disguising horror at herself for indignation at Ludwig, she blushed and pursed her lips into a flat line. The blonde looked up at her with an eyebrow raised questioningly, but kept his curiosity to himself. When Roderich neither argued nor said anything at all, Ludwig excused himself from the table and put his coffee mug in the dishwasher, leaving her to ponder in silence.

"_Doitsu_, _Doitsuuu_!" A muffled voice whined through the door. "_Open up please_!"

The Italian boy stumbled into the house as soon as Ludwig opened the door, flinging his arms around his friend in a hug, and then moving on to the kitchen.

"Ve, Ludwiiig, is your kitchen still full of your silly potatoes? I worry sometimes that you will turn into a potato." Seeing as this was Feliciano, this was likely a genuine concern.

"Feliciano, you know it isn't polite to invite yourself over like this," Ludwig shouted half-heartedly, mostly ignored by his Italian friend.

Opening his eyes to look around the room, Feliciano saw Roderich leaning against the counter with a cup of tea. He held his face in his hands, mouth dropped in surprise. The little curl in his hair bobbed as he stopped walking very suddenly.

"I didn't know you had a pretty girl over! Why didn't you tell me?" He cried, rushing over to make idle chatter and be generally silly at Roderich.

Blushing Roderich took a few stumbling steps back. "Feli, it's me, Roderich."

Feliciano gasped, glancing back and forth between Ludwig and the she-Roderich.

"Ve, ve, I didn't know Roderich was a girl! It makes those times when I wore 'Lizabeta's dress a lot less embarrassing, but-"

"No Feli, I turned into a girl," she corrected, nervously adjusting her glasses.

The Italian flailed his arms and latched onto Ludwig, clinging for dear life it seemed. Ludwig stumbled, because Feliciano could really pull when he was scared.

"Is it contagious? Am I going to turn into a girl too, _Doitsu_?" The Italian fretted wildly, his eyes squeezed shut.

"No, you're not going to turn into a girl, Gilbert did this to me." Roderich tried not to yell at Feliciano for his antics. He was innocent and cute and naïve and he couldn't really blame him for that.

Feliciano calmed down quickly, his face still half-buried in Ludwig's sleeve, who was trying to act unperturbed about it. Wiping his eyes and coming towards the she-Roderich, he cautiously poked her in the chest as though checking to see if her ample bosom was real. Irked, she swatted his hand away and continued to sip her tea. She would have had the cute little angry symbol on her forehead if this were an anime.

Apparently she-Roderich was also a lot more tolerant than the normal one.

"How am I going to attend school on Monday? I've nothing to wear, nobody will recognize me, I'll be completely psychotic all day, and I'll be harassed to no end, even after I change back."

Feliciano's eyes lit up, though he was still smarting from the slap on the hand.

"Ve, Roderich, I still have the dress!"

Roderich looked up at Feliciano witheringly. She would not be caught dead in that frilly, lacy, green maid outfit. It used to be Elizabeta's, for God's sake! Then again… He had always wanted to see how it fit, since Feliciano seemed so content in it… Roderich suddenly had an idea- the best excuse he could come up with on such short notice to get away with being a girl.

"A bet," she decided aloud, eyes drifting off into the upper-left distance, one finger raised to quell the others' thoughts. "We'll say I lost a bet to Gilbert, and he decided to humiliate me a bit by making me dress as a girl for a week- he also gave me fake breasts and a wig that he's making me wear for authenticity's sake. It may not be good, but it's a good try."

"If you could just wrap your chest and cut your hair, I don't think anyone would know the difference. You were pretty before you were a girl." Feliciano chimed in, only to have Ludwig clap his hand over his mouth.

Roderich didn't know how to react to that. Half of her was annoyed, a bit indignant. But the girl half was giddy with delight- he thought she was pretty! Shaking her head, she decided not to fixate on it, because it was giving her a headache.

"We wouldn't be able to pull that off for a week. I'll just skip showers and change in one of the bathroom stalls for P.E."

She shuddered to think what everyone would do on Monday. Raising her cup of tea with a wince on her face, Roderich said a quiet toast, and drank to being a girl. It must be Thursday. She never could quite get the hang of Thursday.

**Translations (May be a little off, I don't speak French) : **

"_**Bonjour petit chaton."-**_** Hello little kitten.**

"_**Je sais astuces, mon chéri**_**." -****I know tricks, my darling.**

"_**Vous êtes si mignon, ma mie!"**_** -You are so cute, my dear!**

**Okay, it may seem kind of like I wimped out there with the whole 'she-Roderich' thing, but that was how the story was supposed to work. I was in the shower and I thought, "What if Roderich got turned into a girl? That'd be **_**funny**_**." Well, I'm trying my best. Also, I was pretty sure it hadn't been done in quite this fashion before, so I wanted to give it a go. (Oh, and to anyone who bothers reading this, feel free to correct my French if things are wonky, da? Thank you.)**

**Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews- I've never had so many! And thank you to everyone who subscribed, favorite, or even read. I love you all to death, and I don't know what I'd do without you. I enjoy constructive criticism, and I'm even open to suggestions about what Roddy and Co. should get into during his girl-time.**

**Until next time, my kittens!**

**Tata!**


	4. Roderich is Uncomfortable

**This is War**

**Chapter 4: In Which God Apparently Decided that Roderich is to be Made Quite Uncomfortable (or 'In Which the Author Has Finally Stopped Being a Lazy Arsehole and Wrote Something')**

**As you can see, I've finally stopped being a lazy arsehole and written something. I am a bad person. I apologize profusely. Even after like, five months of not writing anything, you awesome people still review. I am so grateful to y'all, I really am.**

**As a warning to all readers, this fic is about as not-serious as it could possibly get. It's just me having fun with my favorite Hetalia characters and trying my hand once more at fanfiction (I've stopped more stories on here at the third chapter than I can count on one hand) to see if I can get it right. If you are offended or annoyed by anything, I probably don't give a care because this is me not having a fit about historical accuracy and stuff. I'm saving that for stories I can do research on.**

**Many more characters and sub-plots will be introduced during the school setting, but not all of them are from APH- in fact, I have convinced a few of my friends to let their characters cameo in here (Terran does not belong to me, he is the property of one Nova Childs and her never ending awesomeness). Oh, and I have one more thing to add: _Please stop acting like England is a wimp. Please. He is not a permanent uke; he was a great empire. He has guns and nukes and he can still whoop ass. He's just too polite to brag about it._**

**Warnings: Slight OOC, lots of coarse language and innuendo throughout. Gender-bend for the next few chapters. Human names used. Also, lots of sexual tension between guys- and France finally makes a debut in this chapter, so you know things are going to start getting… well, getting.**

**(Long and tedious author note is long and tedious!)**

* * *

"Okay, how long is this going to take? Just come out of the closet already!"

"Oh, fine. But… A-are you sure I _have to_ wear this thing?" Roderich called out, looking nervously over herself in the mirror.

"I thought you were the one that wanted to!"

"Well, y-yes, but-"

"If you don't wear it, it'll sit in Feli's closet until he convinces _bruder _develop a cross-dressing fetish, and do you have any idea how long that could take? I'd have to subscribe him to a whole _new_ slew of kinky mags— ow! The hell, Ludwig?"

"Wouldn't want all that _awesome_ going to waste on someone like you, now would we?" The other Beillschmidt brother growled.

"Ve~ Doitsu shouldn't hit people all the time. I'm beginning to think he enjoys it." Roderich could almost hear her friend turning red just outside the door, and sighed.

Obscenities were tossed back and forth in German for a good few minutes. The closet was getting warm and uncomfortable, so Roderich slowly opened the door and prepared to creep away to look for her male clothes. Unfortunately, luck had not been on her side for the past few days, and as soon as she had left the closet, all eyes were on her. The outfit was short on her, revealing enough of her pale leg to excite Gilbert- that is, until he remembered that she was not a guy, making things slightly less exciting for him. He needed proper vital regions to claim, dammit!

"_Sembra bella_! You look beautiful, Roderich! If I were someone who saw you, in public I would completely overlook how evident it is that you get no sun!"

Roderich glared daggers at Feliciano and then caught herself when she remembered that this was _Feliciano Vargas_ who had spoken. She should be used to him saying things without realizing how rude it sounded. It would make life simpler to try to behave as she always had, and not let the girly hormones wreak havoc.

"Thank you, Feliciano."

"Ludwig, what time does the bus come to your house?"

"It doesn't. We walk."

Of course they had to walk… Bloody of course.

And so they walked to school, Roderich having temporarily employed Ludwig to carry her bag until she got used to being slightly top-heavy. Gilbert kept his eyes focused on those legs… those delicious legs… because if he looked anywhere else he was accosted by reminders of Roderich's new girly parts. He was beginning to think that he ought to have just forced the other to wear a dress. That, at least, would be very sexy without those _Gottverdammt _breasts getting in the way!

"Feli, remind me again why you even have this thing?" Roderich asked casually, tugging on the hem of the dress to try to pull it down.

"Ohh, it's a very funny story~! You remember, don't you Ludwig? It was when we first became friends- come on, help me tell the story!" Feliciano prodded his friend incessantly in the temple. Ludwig couldn't swat him away, preoccupied as he was with two schoolbags.

"You tell her, you tell stories better than I do." Ludwig growled, almost tripping over the Italian's feet, which were somehow always in the way.

Feliciano laughed and nodded. "Well, I suppose I do."

He turned around and started walking backwards- a feat that, by accomplishing it, nearly sent everyone into shock at the sight- so that he could address all of them.

"You see, it was quite a few years ago, in the fifth grade. I didn't have very many friends, because everyone was really mean to me and liked to pick on me and take my pasta away. Then Elizabeta started being really kind to me, and she let me hang out at her house and we tried on her dresses- it was a lot of fun in hindsight, but at the time it felt weird… Anyway, I found that one that you're wearing, and Elizabeta made me wear it around all the time because she said I looked adorable. Then the kids at school started being _really_ mean to me because I was in a dress. So then Ludwig came to my rescue! He didn't have any friends either, so when someone started picking on me he defended me and wouldn't let them hurt me. Then he kissed me and asked me to be his-"

"Dammit, Feliciano, I thought you were a girl at the time! Please don't go around saying things that can be so easily misinterpreted!" Ludwig shouted, making the little Italian cringe.

"… I'm sorry Doitsu-"

"It's like when you forget to put pants on- you act so embarrassing and then behave as if you've done nothing wrong!" Ludwig was very evidently 'losing it' at this point, and Roderich decided to intervene for everyone's sake.

"Okay, the two of you should just try to calm down and act rational- we don't want anyone getting upset over something so trivial. Don't you agree, Gilbert?"

Hearing his name, the albino snapped his gaze up from Roderich's legs to meet her eyes. "Ehh? Oh, sure whatever. Yeah."

Ludwig looked away and kept walking, brushing past his Italian tagalong, who slipped to the rear of the procession to hide the little tears welling in his eyes.

"You haven't been paying attention, have you, you incompetent?" She muttered, continuing down the sidewalk towards school. Gilbert waited a while just watching those legs go before catching up with the rest of them.

"Of course I've been paying attention to you. I've been paying very close attention to your girly legs, which don't seem to have changed a bit- just out of sheer curiosity, how long have you been shaving, because it looks like a rather sloppy job." He let out a loud, obnoxious laugh, smacking Roderich on the butt for good measure.

This didn't exactly have the desired reaction. Normally when he was incredibly rude the other would just blush and take the abuse or get angry and yell, both of which Gilbert derived great satisfaction and amusement from. This time Roderich did something unexpected.

"Well, I'm delighted to hear that you already miss my gorgeous old body so much, Gil. In fact, I'm _flattered_." She gave him his own signature sneer and gracefully flipped up her skirts and mimicked Gilbert's ass-slap.

Suddenly, everyone had stopped and was staring incredulously at her. The smile dropped off her face as she stared at the traitorous hand as though it had sprouted a sixth finger. And everyone else looking at her with similar expressions was starting to bother her. Face flushing, she marched ahead of them.

"Well, walk," she commanded. "I want to be punctual."

Upon arriving at school, both Roderich and Gilbert were bombarded with whispers and strange looks from all sides. Flushing, she yanked her backpack from Ludwig and made a dash for her homeroom, while the albino strode along at a leisurely pace behind her, basking in the attention and looking at those gorgeous legs and- oh look, panties! He threw back his head and laughed. Overlooking the sudden arrival of boobs- which really did make him squirm inside- this might have been the best idea ever!

"Yo Prussia! Who was that hot girl in the weird dress you were walkin' with? I've never seen her before." One of the boys from the fencing team slapped his friend and team captain on the shoulder, a grin splitting his face. "I mean, have you seen the _cans_ on that thing?"

Gilbert held back a wince at the mention of Roderich's breasts; seriously, were they _that_ noticeable? Were they really _that_ attractive on him? He preferred the other's vital regions, personally…

"Oh, him? That's Roderich Edelstein-"

"Who?"

"The music geek with rich-as-hell parents, dipshit! He's decided to embrace his feminine side for the week; actually, don't tell anyone, but I dared him to, and the guy is secretly hardcore or something. So, uh, don't go talking about my friend's nice attributes or someone might get the wrong idea."

The fencing boy stood very still and adopted one of those expressions that couldn't decide what it wanted to be- disgusted, curious, or frustrated? Why did this always happen to him? Why couldn't he just get laid for once? Gilbert cackled again and gibbslapped his friend upside the head.

"Poor bastard, this keeps happening to you, doesn't it?"

Terran sighed and nodded, continuing towards class. "Unfortunately."

"Christ do you need to get laid. I mean, maybe it's a sign from the universe telling you to be gay. So long as your wandering hands stay away from what I want, of course."

* * *

Homeroom was a nightmare. Elizabeta was the first to put two and two together, and screamed very loudly and then proceeded to glomp Roderich into oblivion while trying not to get blood all over the dress. Their teacher was not amused. He was quickly silenced, however, by a sharp glare from the Hungarian. After homeroom she made a mad dash for his locker, then Biology- a class which she happened to share with Gilbert and not Elizabeta. It didn't stop her from trying to follow the former him into class.

"I still don't get how you got the breasts to be that convincing, but- hey, what do you think you're-" The Englishman pushed her out unceremoniously and slammed the door shut. His head was pounding. The spell had been a failure as far as he knew, and he had drowned his disappointment and self-loathing in a pint. Or two. Or- hey, really, who's counting?

His green eyes flickered all over the class uninterestedly, the headache warping his vision to make that Austrian kid look like he had breasts and was wearing a dress. Arthur blinked his eyes a couple of times and the warped vision remained exactly the same. His prominent eyebrows furrowing, he wrote the assigned pages up on the board and went to investigate the suspiciously realistic mirage. Supposing it was a mirage, it couldn't hurt to place a hand on one of those tempting orbs…

_Oh shit_, he realized too late, _I've turned into Bonnefoy_. _Somebody kill me now_.

There was a collective gasp from the class as Arthur, with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, put a hand on Roderich's newly acquired breast without having uttered a single word all morning. His eyes grew wide in surprise.

'Real?' He mouthed desperately.

Roderich nodded, her purple irises surrounded by white on all sides. Arthur retracted his hand and stared at it, a grin breaking out on his face. Gilbert growled from the other end of the classroom, annoyed beyond belief.

"Yes!" Kirkland cried out, headache-be-damned. "It worked perfectly! I am a genius! Wait 'til they hear about this back in London- I'll rub it in their noses so long they won't even remember I'm in trouble! Ha-HAA! _I, Arthur Kirkland,_ _have done the impossible_!"

Everyone was very confused at this point, except those parties involved, both of whom were red in the face- one from mortification, the other from sheer anger. Arthur, his grin wild and splitting his face, threw open the door and went tearing down the hallway shouting "Alfred, I've done it you wanker! I've fucking done it!"

"Does anyone know if he's ever actually going to teach a class without leaving halfway through shouting for Mr. Jones?" A student piped up in honest curiosity.

There were scattered mutters across the classroom as they all took the time to be lazy and slack off instead of doing their work. Roderich, however, was still frozen in place, her eyes staring at the same spot.

"I… have just been sexually molested by one of the few genuinely sane people I know." She whispered. "I will never be safe again."

The student sitting in the seat beside her patted Roderich on the shoulder, her eyes full of sympathy. "I know where you're coming from, sweetie. It's tough being well-endowed."

"They're not real, Carolyn," Gilbert growled across the classroom. "Stop trying to get some with the boytoy, okay?"

Carolyn retracted her hand slowly, glaring daggers at the albino. "Can I help it that tits are fun, Rainbow?"

"Everyone's except his," he lobbed with a smirk on his face. He didn't get why people had taken to calling him 'Rainbow' lately. It didn't make much sense to him- rainbows did not properly express how awesome he was. So he ignored the nickname.

Collectively, the class rolled their eyes. Why did he bother wondering why everyone thought he was gay?

Arthur strode back into the room then, face flushed and hair ruffled in a highly provocative manner, a sight that normally would have made Gilbert cackle in his obnoxious, intrusive way. Instead he adopted a scowl as soon as the Brit walked through the door. He wasn't in the mood to so quickly forgive anyone who laid a hand on Roderich without his express permission.

In a monotonous drawl that had once a caused a student to nearly die mid-class, as he had been so bored that he forgot to breathe, Arthur began actually doing his job, going over the passage on mitosis for what felt like the hundredth time. The only person paying attention was one girl who you knew just by looking at her that she was only listening because the teacher was short, young, and British, and that she totally went for that sort of thing.

Roderich focused on work to the best of her abilities, but was constantly distracted by Gilbert staring intensely at her, never quite meeting her eyes. Orbs like the inside of an ember. Gritting her teeth she stared at the board, refusing to get distracted by such a trivial matter.

Gilbert was desperately trying to figure out what everyone seemed to find so attractive about the new Roderich. Everyone noticed the _her_ in a way they had never noticed the _him_. _She_ wasn't pretty, but _he_ was. Those lips wouldn't feel proper, they wouldn't feel the same if they weren't _his_ lips. And Gilbert realized all at once why this had been a damn stupid idea: he only liked Roderich when he was a guy.

He wasn't gay, of course, because he was the awesome Prussia, and awesome and gay were very obviously not synonymous in American society. Yeah, totally not gay, he decided, and honestly believed himself.

It seemed a long while, but class was finally over, and our hero was still quite frustrated by the end of it. (Wait, which one is the hero?)

As Roderich left her seat, a chilling realization came to her. Her next class was French. With Francis Bonnefoy. And she was in a dress. With breasts.

But she wouldn't cut class- no, she would remain strong, even as the detestable man hit on her and attempted to molest her and did things that should have gotten him fired years ago. _'God save me,'_ she thought.

But, alas, god has a funny sense of humor. Not, of course, in the sense that it is humorous, but in the sense that it is cruel and sadistic and often not very nice. Occasionally we, the audience, find it humorous; Roderich, however, wouldn't agree.

As soon as the door was open, Francis' eyes were on her. Normally he would stare (and all the rest) at the cute boy just to be annoying, but today he was staring because he was in shock. Roderich blushed and sat down at her seat, primly crossing her legs and pulling out a pencil. The Frenchman bounded over towards, and Roderich was forced to think fast.

"An Englishman got to them first!" She blurted, crossing her arms over her chest in an 'X.'

Francis' entire being stopped, as though paralyzed by her words. His hands retreated and he trudged back to the front of the room, looking at the ground. The Austrian blinked, confused. Had that actually worked? Apparently his French pride wouldn't allow him to come in second to Arthur. Relieved, she sighed, digging out her ridiculously large French textbook and hurriedly attempting to finish Friday's assignment, which had completely slipped her mind.

Just after the tardy bell rang, the door slammed open. Roderich rolled her eyes- that odd little Armenian kid had probably 'gotten lost' on the way to class again. However, the voice that reached her ears was loud, grating, and very much familiar.

"Get your hands off him you- oh, come on! Jones kicked me out of class, insisting I 'be the hero', and nothing is even fuckin' happening!"

Bemused, the room glanced up as one to look at a pouting Gilbert Beillschmidt. Roderich loudly banged her head on the desk, emitting a strangled noise of pain and 'kill me now.'

Sighing, the albino ran a hand through his hair. "Ech, sorry to bother you, Bonnefoy. Blame that dumb American."

Chuckling, Francis waved a hand; he shook his head so that his golden locks caught the light and caused half the class to swoon. "Oh, Monsieur Prussia, why don't you join us? I'm sure if you were to return unsuccessful he would simply send you back. Sit, sit, _mon ami_!"

Grinning, Gilbert shut the door and hopped up onto Francis' desk to watch the class. "Carry on, sir. Teach these ladies how to French, heh?"

"Of course, Monsieur Prussia- and who better to teach them, _non_?"

He winked. The remaining half of the class swooned. Even Roderich let out a dreamy sigh and rested her chin on the back of her hand, enchanted by the smell of roses and the glittery sparkles that seemed to emanate from the man. God, he really was too gorgeous for his own good.

"Now, _mes __é__tudiant,_ from_ Mercredi_ onward, the class will be held entirely _en fran__ç__ais_, so I hope you studied well!" He let out a melodic, tinkling laugh that they would from then on associate with evil. "Everything you say in class must be in the _langage de l'amour_, else it will be disregarded, and your grade will be impacted, _comprendre_?"

Gilbert smiled, amused by the Frenchman's tactics to make them learn. Not only did he force them into learning (usually lewd) phrases by using them in class to torture them, as he had bragged to Gilbert- who had immediately bonded over perversion and a love of being a right pain- but now this. He had to congratulate the man, he really did.

"Now, turn in the paper from _Vendredi _and _tournez-vous vers la page cinquante_, and begin the passage on nouns- gender and number, and do the corresponding worksheet. When you are _fini_, feel free to ask questions." Striding over to his desk, he rested his chin on Gilbert's shoulder.

"It is beautiful, _non, _Monsieur Prussia?" He asked, gesturing to the brunette who was discreetly glaring daggers at her teacher.

Pouting, Gilbert turned to look at the Frenchman with distaste. "She's not an 'it,' Bonnefoy, she is a young man. But… beautiful I will admit." He added in a moment of weakness.

The blonde broke out in a grin wrapping his arms around the teen. "_Mon ami_, I was referring to the _langage de l'amour_! You really are quite, ah, _amoureux_, _non_?"

"Ech, whatever that means, asshole," Gilbert muttered, wrenching the arms off of him.

Still glaring at the Frenchman, Roderich slowly lowered her head to look at her book. First he tries to assault her, then moves on to her friend- the absolute nerve of him! How did that bastard live with himself?

Slamming her book shut half-way through the article and refusing to go on with the pointless language, she leaned back in her chair and fingered a favourite piece by Chopin on her desktop to keep herself from hitting something. It was all Greek to her- English hadn't been so hard to learn, but the grammar rules in French went over his head. Hardly a few notes in, and Francis was hovering over her shoulder looking expectant. She opened one eye to look at him, sensing his presence because of the scent of perfume (it was definitely perfume, not cologne) wafting off of him.

"Mademoiselle," he sang quietly. "I do not believe you grasp my directions."

"But that's not what you wanted me to _grasp_ anyway, is it?" She snarled, leaning away from him.

The blonde sighed forlornly, the disheartening kicked-puppy expression almost making Roderich regret being so rude. Why was he so good-looking; being that pretty was a weapon, not a natural occurrence.

"Mademoiselle Edelstein, I am trying to help you. What is it that is so difficult for you, _mon cher_?"

Scowling, she flipped open the book and directed him to the passage that she had given up on. Patiently, Francis explained it to her in a low, gentle voice, every now and again glancing up to give Gilbert a smug look. The albino rolled his eyes, pulling apart a ballpoint pen to break the ink cartridge and make a mess. French wasn't nearly as exciting as he'd hoped, even with Bonnefoy teaching.

"Wait- I think I'm starting to get this. It's the same thing that gave me trouble with English, the lack of noun cases that we have in German." She smiled a little. "Thank you, Mr. Bonnefoy."

"No, no, no, Francis, I insist," He cooed, scooting around to the other side of her desk and snatching up her hand. "It was no trouble, _mon chouchou_. You are my student, _non_?"

Roderich blushed, pulling her hand away slower than normal. "I-I know what that means, you know."

Bonnefoy winked, striding back to his desk to grade papers. "_Oui_, that was the point. You are learning."

The little smile fell off her face as she realized she had been strung along this entire time. The detestable man hadn't merely been flirting; he'd been forcing her to learn what he was saying. And she had, for her own safety. Therefore… he had won before the fight had even been considered.

"He… He's good," she whispered, going back to her worksheet.

"And that is how you do it, _mon ami_," Francis gloated quietly to the silverette. "You should try being nice to her, and she will return your love!"

"I'm not in love," Gilbert hissed back, knocking a folder of papers off the desk. Francis looked up at him with apparent annoyance.

"Why, Prussia?" He asked, pointing to the mess.

Appearing to think about it for a few moments, the albino shrugged. "I dunno. I have destructive energy to expend."

The bell rang and most of the class shot out the door without needing further prompting. Francis shook his head, pushing his friend off the desk. "You should focus that energy on something productive- such as_ l'amour_, for instance. If I didn't have that in my life, I would be… Come to think of it, I would be you."

Gilbert laughed, kicking the classroom door open and strutting towards his next class as if to say "bollocks to being on time!"

"You just wish you could be as awesome as I am, Bonnefoy." He snickered.

"Oh, but I am. We should start a club," Francis said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and shutting the door behind him. "Though I don't think anyone else could fit in the room if we bring your ego in."

* * *

Translations (the ones that you might not know): French: _mon ami_- my friend; _Mercredi_- Wednesday; _Vendredi_- Friday; _tournez-vous vers la page cinquante_- turn to page 50; _amoureux_- lovestruck; _mon cher_- my dear; _mon chouchou_- my pet.

**A/N: Wh-what? _That's_ the end of the chapter? Well yes. I had to stop there because if I tried to stretch out this chapter any longer, it would have died and I would have had another mini-breakdown and not been able to post it up for another month. The stuff that I'm excited about (In other words, Feliks) is going to happen in the next chapter, finishing up the first day of Roderich as a girl. Also: A few more countries (in other words, husband) will guest-star in the next chapter (as well as my OC having, a brief cameo- I did it for you, husband ; Take responsibility.)**

**Well, tell me what you thought; don't censor your immediate reactions for the sake of my feelings. I'm obviously still rusty (and holy god this chapter took me three months to write and yet it's still shite!) and would like to apologize for how unfunny it ended up. I'm writing chapter 5 as we speak, so feel free to get your hopes up because I FUCKING MADE IT PAST THREE!**

**Until next time, my kittens!**

**Tata!**


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